


free and young and we can feel none of it

by sapphfics



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: F/M, In which I try & pretend I know anything about medicine, Short One Shot, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-16 04:04:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19310260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphfics/pseuds/sapphfics
Summary: Zinnia knows she has officials and Peacekeepers to attend to, but Aster Everdeen somehow manages to remain beautiful even when his back is torn up.





	free and young and we can feel none of it

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chemicalpixie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chemicalpixie/gifts).



> for bev, who writes the best hunger games fics - which you should all go and read immediately - and who is one of my best friends and one of the most wonderful people ever!! <333

_My mother’s parents were part of the small merchant class that caters to officials, Peacekeepers, and the occasional Seam customer. They ran an apothecary shop in the nicer part of District 12. Since almost no one can afford doctors, apothecaries are our healers. My father got to know my mother because on his hunts he would sometimes collect medicinal herbs and sell them to her shop to be brewed into remedies. She must have really loved him to leave her home for the Seam._

— The Hunger Games, Chapter One

-:-

Zinnia knows she has officials and Peacekeepers to attend to, but Aster Everdeen somehow manages to remain beautiful even when his back is torn up. 

Not that this would factor into her healing him, obviously. It’s just something she notices. 

Suddenly, he twists his head to look right at her. “Oh! It’s you!” 

She thinks he’s trying to smile, but he’s in too much pain to do that much. She’s surprised he can even form a coherent sentence with all the medicine she’s given him. She wishes she had morphling, but the most she can get is very basic anaesthetic. Still, it will help. It has to help. 

“Yes, it’s me,” She tells him, soothingly.“I’m Zinnia Aeson, do you remember me? I think we were in the same class. My parents are out so I’m looking after you, okay? I’m just as good as them, you’re safe here.”

She hates seeing him like this, but she’s glad she’s the only one here. Her parents tend to be rather lackluster when it comes to taking care of Seam customers, simply because they know if they’re dead they can tax their living family for their services. 

“You are hard to forget, Zinnia,” He repeats. Her name sounds prettier when he says it. “For a second...thought you were an angel.” 

“I’m not, and you’re not going to die.” She assures him. “I’ve treated worse than this, and they’ve lived. Save your energy, please. Try and sleep.” 

She smooths back his hair, which is stuck to his forehead, and some of it is now matted with his own blood. He will probably have to cut it off. 

“Zinnia,” He mutters, like he’s remembering something from long ago. “Brightest flower in the meadow. Suits you.” 

He becomes incoherent then, now that the pain medication is taking effect, and falls into a restless sleep. 

-:-

“What did he do?” Zinnia asks. Aster is still asleep, but it’s an effort trying to keep the flies away. The sun is boiling them. She wishes it were winter, then they would have snow to help treat him. The meagre ice packs allotted to Seam customers will melt quickly. 

“He just pulled out a receipt for some bread,” says Haymitch. “Peacekeeper claimed he could have been pulling out a weapon.”

She can picture the scene clear as day; the shouts of Peacekeepers who seem to become more vindictive in numbers, the silent sympathy from the watchful eyes of passersby who won’t risk their own necks, the wounds on his back opening like the mouth of a waterfall. “But no one has weapons?! They’d kill you on the spot.” 

“People have been hung for less,” Haymitch reminds her. Not that she needs reminding. These days, you can’t go an hour without seeing another public execution. “But hey, he’s been looking for an excuse to see you.” 

“What? Why me?” She asks incredulously. Someone like him must have no shortage of girls who want him. She had left school at fourteen to help run the Apothecary, so she wouldn’t know. 

“He‘s intrigued by you,” replies Haymitch. “You didn’t really think he came here so often to hang out with your parents, did you?”

“My parents don’t really hang out with anyone,” She admits. She hopes she’s not blushing. “Except maybe the Mellarks. Or maybe Lye, but he still won’t talk to me after...Wait...Aster comes here often?” 

She’s out of the house regularly to make home visits that her parents won’t. Her parents have never spoken about him because they don’t discuss people in the Seam unless they’re dying. 

“Please know that I mean this with complete offence, but Lye is an idiot for giving up on you.” Haymitch says. “What does he want with you, anyway, apart from the obvious? Isn’t he seeing Murial?” 

“What do you mean? All I’m good for is cheaper medical care.” She suggests. She doesn’t like what Haymitch is implying. But he’s right. Somehow, Lye seems to have found himself paired with Murial, the baker’s daughter who used to cut the wings off butterflies whenever Zinnia saw her in school. She can’t imagine what she must be like now. 

“There’s nothing going on between me and Lye. There never was, despite what people think. He and Murial are apparently getting married after their last Reaping. I got their wedding invitation last week.” She tells him. “I’m surprised she let him invite me. Last time she saw me, she called me a homewrecker.” 

“Who knows if they’ll even make it through this years Reaping?” He tells her. “If I were him, I’d volunteer just to get away from her.” 

She knows he doesn’t mean it, but she laughs anyway. “I think she’d do the same.” 

-:-

Zinnia meets him properly after Maysilee leaves. 

That’s what she likes to think of this as: Maysilee is only leaving for a little while, she will come back home, and Zinnia will never let her out of her sight ever again.  
She hasn’t even bothered taking off the dress she wore to the Reaping, and it’s since been stained with blood. She doesn’t care anymore. Nothing will matter until Maysilee is safe and home and free. 

Her parents are avoiding her again. She supposes now she’s eighteen and safe from The Games, they can’t be bothered to keep their connection with her so that if she went into the Arena and made it to the final eight they would have to be interviewed. She can’t really blame them.

She buries herself in work, but Aster still delivers her herbs. She can’t understand why he’s risking poaching since if they can whip you for nothing, she imagines that they will kill him for an actual crime. 

“I’m here if you need someone to watch the games with,” Aster tells her. “My parents like you already, so they won’t mind.” 

“Is this how you ask out all the girls?” 

“Just you,” He says. “You helped me, let me help you.” 

She just can’t watch Haymitch or Maysilee die alone, so she takes his hand and locks up the shop early. 

She never lets herself look back.

**Author's Note:**

> suzanne collins didn’t name them so i had to so that’s why they’ve both got plant names (bc that’s how u know they’re soulmates) and/or random names from baby websites and also ik the title doesn’t really relate to the fic that much But it fits like. The Tone of 12 during this time....yeah...sorry if this sucked


End file.
